Into My Heart
by Pomegranate Deux
Summary: Original HM SNES characters. 5 very short stories centered around Ann, Maria, Nina, Eve, and Ellen, and their interaction with the main character. -FINISHED-
1. Crash

Crash

Hybrid Fairy

Note: This is the first in a series of five very short stories, centering the five original woman of the very first Harvest Moon on SNES. I tried to stay close to their original characters, but I haven't played the game in a long time, and I've long-sold my SNES, so what can I say? I'm a little rusty.

* * *

"It's cold," she breathed.

It was Winter. Ann didn't enjoy winter entirely; the grease gelled and the metal became hard to work with. Her hands became dry and stiff. She sneezed, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her brown shirt. Darn the cold.

It had been about two years since the new farmer had come. Ryan, she recalled with a smile. He was lean and slightly muscled, with a sweet face. The way he was kind to animals made her heart jump.

And he was always willing to help her with a new invention.

She brushed back her thick red hair. Of course, there was the fact he counted her as a friend, nothing more. She was always used to being thought of as a guy; she acted like one, that was for sure. Blinking, she eyed the screw-and-metal contraption in front of her, poking it gingerly with a screwdriver.

"Good afternoon, Ann!" a familiar voice sang out.

She froze. Oh god. She squeezed her eyes shut, then turned slowly to face Ryan. He was grinning, wearing a thick sweater she /knew/ had come from Nina. In his large hands was a box, with the emblem of Ellen's bakery. Ann hid her discomfort, and smiled warmly.

"Hey Ryan!" she greeted. "I hope you put your animals in the barn."

"Of course," he scoffed. "Who do you think I am, a cruel animal-killer?"

Ann rolled her eyes. "What's that in the box?"

For some reason, Ryan flushed slightly. "Ah, it's cake. I bought some and I was wondering… if you weren't busy, but…"

"You wanted to know if I had time to eat it with you?" Ann asked suspiciously. No, that'd be too good to be true!, she reminded herself.

"Exactly!" Ryan grinned. He flipped open the top, revealing a decadent chocolate cake. Her favorite. Her heart leapt in her throat.

"Wow, it's so much!" she breathed. "Thanks, Ryan!"

He beamed, fishing out two forks from the side of the container. "Let's dig in!" he announced, setting the cake on a worktable. "The year's almost over, and I need to relax."

Ann smiled, gently, and took the fork he offered her. With a grin, she took a piece and bit it quickly, raising her eyes… and seeing Ryan was staring at her.

"What, do I have something on my face?" she asked worriedly, dropping her fork to rub her face of any frosting. She cursed mildly as she picked up her fork again when he shook his head, amused.

"Well, there's something I've been meaning to do," Ryan said slowly.

He began to fish around in his pockets. Ann raised her eyebrow, studying him: what was he doing? She noted the way he bit his lip, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The thick, brown hair that fell into his face, the large eyes the color of the blackest night.

Something in his hand flickered an azure shade… no…

"There you go!" he said finally, fishing out the feather. Ann froze. It was like a dream come true. Raising her eyes, she noticed he was blushing furiously.

"I-I really like you… Ann…" he fumbled. "And well… I want to ask you something."

"Anything," she said listlessly.

He smiled, gently. "Do you think Nina would accept this from me?"

Crash.

All of Ann's future inventions and dreams fell in a collapsed heap in her brain. There was a little voice, taunting her, saying "I told you so!" She felt numb for a moment; this wasn't real, was it? But it was. Of course. She smiled gently, softly, trying to carry herself up again.

"Of course," Ann replied softly. "I know I would."

* * *

Fin.


	2. Shadow

**Shadow  
Hybrid Fairy**

Author's Note: Well, I didn't mean for these stories to be connected in any way, so sorry if you expected it'd be line, an ongoing saga of Jack confessing his for Nina to every woman in town. Oo; But anyways, as a reviewer pointed out that the name 'Ryan' didn't keep the same originality of the character as 'Jack' did, I decided to use the generic name. :3

Thank you for all your support! That was just a very quick, spur-of-the-moment thing for me. I didn't think it was that good. (I did read Betrayal by Farmer Jen and found it very well written, though the dark sides of the girls frightened me considerably! Haha. )

And now, on with the story!

* * *

"As I went down to the river to pray, studyin' about that good ole' way…"

She hummed these words half-heartedly, fingers skimming over the beast of ivory and ebony, brushing the keys of the organ with a practiced, curved hand. The metal pipes stood tall, glowing from the shattered light escaping the stained glass windows.

Maria had always tried to be very good. She believed in that thing they told you when you were young, that you always got what you deserved. If she were a good girl, maybe she'd get what she wanted most in the world.

And surprisingly, that wasn't Salvation.

It couldn't be said what she wanted, exactly. He was always ambiguous in her dreams: just the shape of a darkened shadow holding something out to her, hat on his head. Maybe the memory of a past life, though she didn't believe in such blasphemy. She wanted someone who'd care for her, who'd watch her. She wanted something perfect, but not entirely so… it would be idolism if she believed him to be perfect, wouldn't it?

She had spent her time praying, as always. Always praying. Nobody ever asked her what she prayed about, exactly; the few times her mother pried, she answered with a smile and a modest answer of "happiness".

Finally, she couldn't resist any longer. She pressed down on the keys, a harmonious sound suddenly escaping and ricocheting in the angled ceiling. Not that this had come entirely natural to her; she had practiced, slaved over this creature of sound and harmony, straining her fingers until they became stiff and useless.

She paused. Someone was in the pews. She always knew when somebody was; she was so accustomed to the usual silence of the church, she could hear a pin drop. Or in this case, the not-entirely-quiet steps of working boots.

Jack was here.

She didn't mind, for some reason. She usually got a little pensive at someone else being in the church other than the Priest. (She always thought of him as a tall pile of Bible scriptures, because that's all he spouted off at her when she attempted to carry on a conversation with him. And to her knowledge, she was the only one he did this to.)

"Hello, Jack," she said, turning. She brushed away a piece of hair, scrutinizing it briefly before remembering vanity was a sin. Her blue hair had always been a peculiarity, though it often paled beneath Nina's own cotton candy cloud.

He smiled, gently. He was quiet; she had noticed when he had first appeared in the town. That was about a year ago, wasn't it? It was Spring now, his second one. He'd come every so often to give her a slightly crushed flower, maybe a bottle of that green perfume that smelled of incense and pine, things that made her dream of her happiness.

"Have you come to pray to the Higher Being?" she inquired gently. He seemed nervous, almost frantic, as he shook his head in a quick no. She frowned slightly, but there was still warmth in her, despite the calm, cool exterior.

He was studying her, she could tell. And for once, she didn't shy away. She smiled again, calmly, brushing back a single piece of her straight hair. As he continued to look at her, Maria noted that her black, conservative dress suddenly seemed very constricting and hot.

"Maria," he said.

She nearly jumped, coming back down to earth suddenly. As she regained her composure, he got up, wandering over to her. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked up through his bangs at her.

"I've known you for a while now," he started. He had barely ever spoken to her, maybe a few polite words, and a few conversations that remained memorable. But she could recognize every note and skip in his voice, for some odd reason. She could tell he was searching for some words by the way his voice paused and that the tone was a bit wilder than usual.

"Yes, Jack," she responded. He lifted his head, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. Maria felt a strange chill in her heart, though not exactly unwanted. It was something, she realized, that had been happening for a while.

He didn't speak, just searched his pockets for a something while she waited, feeling slightly confused. He let out a soft "A-ha!" when he found what he needed, then shoved it at her.

A blue feather. The azure shade glinted sharply, bathed in a light of red and a soft yellow from the stained glass window. He held it out, expectantly… no, not expectantly. There was a question in his eyes.

"For … me?" she asked dimly, not able to meet his eyes. She saw his chin move upwards, then down, and was about to say no, I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way. As the words were about to escape her mouth, she felt a strong sense of familiarity in the scenery.

She glanced at his shadow.

"Yes," Maria smiled, turning to face what her prayers had given her. "I'll marry you."

* * *

Fin.


	3. Empty

Empty  
Hybrid Fairy 

Author's Note: This is one my sister wrote. It's her birthday, and she really wanted to do the Nina chapter. So I let her. Be kind, y'aal. (I know you will, right?) I did help her with some parts, so you can be a LEETLE mean.

* * *

He really didn't like the situation, but who could? The days were becoming more and more tedious as he waited for what would eventually come. It was a sad fate, sure, and very disappointing. But it wasn't his fault he wasn't cut for the job.

Jack sighed. He gazed blearily at his fields: a mass of twisted weeds and dry dust. None of his crops seemed to succeed; partially out of bad luck and partially out of sheer forgetfulness to water them. His two calves were sickly and gaunt, and his sheep was bad-tempered.

"How did Grandpa manage to do this?" Jack wondered aloud that morning. There was stillness in the air, and emptiness in him he wanted to fill.

He knew where the empty feeling came from. It was from Her.

Not only was he leaving behind a failed farm, he was leaving behind the first girl he'd ever loved. The sheer notion of it sounded like a tragic story, or even those ballads the carpenter liked to hum while working. It made him cry, or want to, at least.

But the boat was coming tomorrow, and he was leaving forever.

With a sigh, Jack grasped his pen, and put words to the paper before him.

* * *

She couldn't believe the city boy was leaving.

She sat there, numb, when the Mayor told her the news. She felt the feeling flood from her face, her eyes become wide. She knew he hadn't been into working, but… well, she thought he'd manage a way. And now he was leaving, breaking her in such a way she felt … empty.

The flowers in her hands seemed trivial. Pretty petals crumpling beneath her pale fingertips, her eyes crushing the delicate things with an inborn hate. No, why? Her lips parted, she gave a hiccup, and fell to the ground on her knees.

She buried her face in the flowers.

She'd always treasured flowers. They were beautiful and delicate and gracious things full of something she couldn't quite pin down. They taught her lessons, so to speak, though it wasn't in the same way you might think. They tangled her up in word vines and letter roots, the secret of the soil.

"Why is he going?" she sighed into their budding blossoms, tears falling from her eyes, the softened pink of her hair reflecting into the watery droplets. But there was no answer to her question.

She remembered giving him the first bag of seeds she could find: she tried so hard to please this boy, to give him what he needed. He'd given her a crooked smile – he was so awkward that way! – and taken the bag with little more than the brush of a finger. But she'd swooned, and felt her hand burning the rest of the day.

She hated it when the people she loved left her.

At this thought, her heart broke open even more, like a ripe fruit falling onto the ground, and she openly sobbed for the first time since her father died.

* * *

"Well, my boat's here," he said, biting his lip.

The crowd of people was small. The carpenter, the bartender, Ann's dad, the fortune-teller's granddaughter, and Her, of course. His heart broke when he saw her face cave in like a collapsed mine, but he tried to tuck away his grief into a wrinkle on his forehead, a souvenir from his time spent here.

The boat horn squalled again, and he winced. She wimpered.

She hadn't opened the paper yet.

With a sigh, Jack left the town without knowing if the girl he loved actually loved him back.

* * *

**"Dear Nina,**

**It's hard to write this, even now. I was never much good at writing letters, you see. Found it pointless. But I feel compelled to write you a letter… not one of those pointless ones, but one you might keep forever.**

**That's what I hope at least.**

**You know I didn't like farming. I think we were all prepared for this in the end. I wasn't made to be a farmer boy—I've always been more of an athlete, you remember? I told you when we went swimming in the summer. Farming isn't my thing, and apparently, neither are small towns.**

**I'm sorry I have to leave. There are so many things I want to say. That was cliché, I know, and I've always hated those. But I know exactly what it means now, and I want to tell you how your hair always bunches around your face when you giggle. You wrinkle your nose when you lie—"**

She self-consciously patted her nose.

**"— When you smile, one eyebrow is higher than the other. You have six sour faces. You always seemed to glow when I give you a flower. When you dance, your hands always seemed to float at your sides. And I love you."**

She gave a smile.

**"I hope you can forgive me. I'm just not cut out for this time. But I promise I won't forget you… Really! You're… special to me, Nina. God, look how sappy I'm sounding. I'd make Shakespeare ashamed.**

**I don't know any other way to say it, Nina. I love you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Jack."**

She balled the paper up, and threw it in the fire. Then she sighed, and gazed into the embers with the emptiness aching inside of her like a gnawing dog, much like the one Jack had left behind. She dabbed away her tears, and put the envelope in her pocket.

Sometimes, ten years in the future, she'll wonder if her big-city boy ever thinks about the small-town girl who wasn't strong enough to hold onto him.

* * *

Author's Note: I really liked that last line. Hahahahhaa. Anyways, leave a kind review for my struggling sister.


	4. Perfume

Perfume

Hybrid Fairy

Note: Well, Eve is here! Ellen will be next chapter. (She's my favorite, so I'm saving her.) Then I'll be done with this little series forever! –dance- I love you all, really, but I'm suffering from writer's block, and using what little inspiration I have to wrap things up in my stories.

Thank you for all your support. You guys rock my world. Do me a favor, and check out my other Harvest Moon story (a Next-Gen. Fic!) which is seriously lacking in reviews.

* * *

"So, what'll it be, sirrah?"

She tended to slur after a couple of drinks, and it was nearing around 12, which was her peak time. She was saucy and lewd sometimes, garbed in that tight scarlet dress, the sleek coils of golden hair resting upon her creamy shoulders. She was easily described as beautiful, but the man sitting in the corner considered her goddess-like.

He had been watching the barmaid with very little interest until she'd given off a deliciously golden laugh, and the drunkard near him had pointed out the beauty she possessed, and suddenly, he'd found himself entranced. He was new in the town, and each girl's beauty surpassed the next. Clearly, this had to be the last girl, because he was sure if he found another one, she'd be the actual Higher Being, or something or other.

And now she was standing at his side, hand on shapely hip, hair tossed haughtily over one shoulder. Her breasts were pressed up against his shoulder, and he flushed slightly as she leaned over, breathing into his neck. She smelled of some rare perfume, perhaps primroses or lilacs.

"The wine," he said glibly, feigning control. "Thank you."

She nodded, winking at him as she took his order, hips swaying side-to-side. He studied the sultry way she walked, the flash of murky blue eyes as her lids settled over them.

He glanced around blearily until she came back with a mug of hot wine, topped with a cinnamon stick. It was a custom of the town he wasn't used to, so he hid the stick in his pocket, sipping his wine. The barmaid watched him, still standing there, an expectant smile on her face.

"How is it, sir? You like it?" she said, giggling. He watched her mouth curve, red as blood, exposing the straight white teeth she possessed. He gave a quiet smile in return, sipping his wine.

"It's good," he said simply, turning to face her. "It's unlike anything I've ever had."

"Of course!" the barmaid said jubilantly. "We're famous for our wine, sirrah." She gave a gentle laugh, and a girly 'hic!' escaped her mouth. Drunk as she was, she still had the grace to blush.

"I'm Jack," he said, taking another long drink. "I'm the new farmer here."

"Oh, that's YOU?" the barmaid said, scrutinizing him. "Aren't you a bit young, Jack?"

"I'm twenty-six," came the dry reply. "Thanks for the warm welcome."

The barmaid didn't apologize, only squished herself into the seat opposite Jack. "I'm Eve. Barmaid." She said this in a matter-of-fact way, and Jack still felt himself entranced by her beauty. "At least we have some fresh men in this place." She gestured toward the drunk, who gave several hiccoughing laughs before slumping over his table. Jack averted his eyes.

"Not many young people here, huh?" Jack managed to say, feeling the wine get to his head. "Only those other four girls?"

Eve nodded grimly, tossing her thick hair behind a shoulder. "We were starting to wonder when we'd get someone new around here." She coughed into her hands; Jack noted they were large, which contrasted with her petite figure. "Nobody to marry around here, you know?" She hic'd again, not giving another blue, and dug her nail into the grime of the table.

"It's getting late," Jack said, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the direction of subject. "I'll be going now."

"Suit yourself," Eve said, standing up; then she offered her hand to him. He took it, expecting a handshake, but she curled herself around his body, giving him a quick hug. He blinked in surprise, the pungent scent of primroses reaching his nose.

Eve noticed his reaction. "It's my grandma's perfume," she explained. "I keep a bottle, but these were my last drops. I don't think they make anymore."

He nodded, as if understanding. "I'm sorry. Do you use other perfumes?"

"Yeah," she said, suddenly becoming rather shy. She turned her face from him, and he could see the scarlet flames on her cheeks. "But I wanted to use the last drops to make a good impression on you."

Jack glanced at her unsurely, and exited the bar with a good-bye to the bartender. Eve sighed, as if the night had gone wrong, then curtly ordered a mug of beer, which she quickly downed.

She was going to be surprised when she woke up the next morning and saw the little rose bottle on her dresser. She was going to be even more surprised when she saw the little card:

_I heard you needed more perfume. Pretty girls should always smell good._

_-Jack_

She wouldn't be surprised when she felt her heart soar.

* * *

Author's Note: I considered that mediocre at best. I have no idea why I called it perfume, but it just popped into my head. Grr. I'm losing my touch you guys. Help encourage me. I desperately need beta-readers... or a muse. xx;


	5. Cake

Cake

Hybrid Fairy

Author's Note: The last part! I'm so very happy. I really hope this ends well. I feel like my stories are getting worse and worse… But it's alright. Anyways, the final chapter: ELLEN! Dun, dun, dunnnn.

* * *

She gave a sigh; she was nervous, but that was to be expected. The church was full of people she'd known since forever, and she watched them from behind the closed doors, trying to ignore the grumbling in her stomach. She was hungry, but that'd be fixed later.

She could see the vague shape of him in his tux, nervously awaiting her to come down the aisle, and for this stupid ceremony to be over. She sighed again, wringing the organza fabric of her ballroom gown, trying to remind herself not to touch the glittering rhinestones dotting the diagonal pleats on her bodice. Her mother had actually gone to the trouble of finding some flowers to thread through her boyish, brown hair, and she was somewhat grateful for that. She couldn't wait until she ripped this ridiculous, strapless thing off her pudgy body, and put on her normal clothes.

There was another reason why she wanted this ceremony to be over also—it wasn't that she didn't like being the center of attention; it was a nice change. It wasn't that she was worried her decadent cake frosting was melting off the vanilla mass; she had put it in the fridge. Nor was it even that she hated the fact that the dog had to be left outside, whimpering to itself, though that did bother her a tiny bit.

It was because the best man loved her.

He'd been good to her, she knew—giving her milk, flowers, eggs. He'd shown her cute animals, and he'd been so earnest in trying to win her affection… it almost made her feel sorry for him. Yet his best friend had given the blue feather after buying a cake, and, blindly, she accepted in that surprised, happy stupor. She'd pressed her full lips against him, and they fumbled against the cake case before /he/ had arrived, his arms full of eggs… she'd felt quite like crying, though the tears remained unbidden behind her eyes.

The bouquet in her hand—a mix of white roses, ivy, baby's breath, and crumpled tulle— felt damp, and she anxiously wiped her hands on her arms, trying to remember that it was okay, anyways, wasn't it? She was marrying the man she loved. It was her day. She recalled the effort she put into the cake, but felt nervousness capture her mind again, and she continued to wait anxiously.

She could see him waiting for her, next to her future husband; she felt almost sorry for marrying the man she loved, when this one guy had gone so far for her. How was he supposed to know she'd had a long-term boyfriend? Alas, the deed was done, and she was getting married.

She emerged from the doors with a blank, far-away look on her face, one that her future man worriedly examined as maybe second thoughts. However, when she felt the cool metal of her ring on her hand, her face lit up, and she tipped her head up in that familiar, warming smile she had.

The best man swallowed, and tried to be happy for his friend.

They met in a breathtaking kiss, she anxious for this to be over and consecrated, him merely wanting to kiss his bride. The best man watched with a wan, empty face, despite the upward curve of his emotionless lips. He examined the way Ellen cradled his best friend's head close to her lips, fingers threading through his dark hair. His face fell.

They broke off quickly, abruptly, with the husband's happy face and Ellen's relieved smile. She turned to the best man, a smile on her face, and a very obvious gladness that he'd come.

"I'm happy for you," he said fakely, but she didn't catch on. She gave him a one-armed hug, wary of the bouquet crushed to her breast, and she gave him a demure smile.

"I'm so glad you came," she gushed, husband at her side. The best man's face fell, but he quickly regained it, noting the sincerity in her voice.

"What can I say, Ellen?" Jack the farmer, and heartbroken best man replied. "I came for you and your cake."

* * *

Author's Note: A bit weak, but what can I do? I'm so happy that I'm done, I hardly care. Wee!


End file.
